


Amateur Dramatics

by fengirl88



Series: Remembrances of days foregone [7]
Category: Slings & Arrows
Genre: Community: fan_flashworks, Family, Gen, Pre-Canon, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-13 22:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16027697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/pseuds/fengirl88
Summary: Miss Edith Tennant writes a letter from the bar of the Albion Hotel.





	Amateur Dramatics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theicescholar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theicescholar/gifts).



> written for the Bar challenge at fan_flashworks; this is a late birthday present for theicescholar who wanted to know more about Geoffrey's great-aunt Edie.

Dearest Syb,

This letter may not reach England before I do, but there is – as ever – a relief in writing to you. I have escaped from the family – more accurately, from my ghastly nephew – to the bar of the Albion Hotel. It is said to be haunted by the mistress of Al Capone or possibly of some other gangster, a vagueness which does not inspire confidence. But the barman understands how to mix a martini, and for that I am grateful. 

Happily the Albion Hotel’s martinis are not the only good things about Guelph. My niece-in-law is a darling, and we get on famously. I cannot begin to imagine why she married Bill, who was a pompous ass at twenty and has not improved with age. Marriage has always been a mystery to me, as you know, but this one more than most, though I must be thankful that it has produced a boy as promising as my great-nephew. 

Geoffrey is now rising sixteen, and remarkably impressive on stage. He must get it from Claudine, who acts and sings rather nicely herself, and made a very touching Iolanthe. I gather that Geoffrey had auditioned for Strephon, and would certainly have been more convincing in the role than the production’s superannuated leading man, who could _not_ pass for five-and-twenty. You would no doubt attack me with Coleridge’s willing suspension of disbelief, and I should enjoy the scolding, as always, but really there are limits to one’s credulity. Still, if Geoffrey is to have a career in the theatre he must accustom himself to disappointments of this kind in the early years, and to the dubious joys of outshining the lead from a minor role. He was a surprisingly mature and entirely credible Private Willis, with an inner life of the sort one doesn’t expect to encounter in light opera. I wish you could have seen him. He talks of wanting to come to England – I mentioned Stratford (ours, not theirs) and he looked as if he had seen the Beatific Vision. If he comes to London, I hope the two of you might meet; I think you would find him interesting.

Bill, of course, is utterly opposed to the idea of his son’s going on the stage. No doubt he’d rather the boy followed in his footsteps and became a middle manager with no interests other than golfing and grilled meat. He’s a fool: the boy won’t stand for being bullied, and he’ll be off at the first opportunity if his father carries on like this. I can see storms ahead in a couple of years’ time – Bill is quite capable of refusing to stand guarantor if the boy wants to study drama, as he assuredly will. When I get back to Oxford I will visit that nice Miss Scott to see about setting up a trust for Geoffrey’s education. The Philistines shall not prevail!

I look forward to seeing you more than I can say.

With all my love, 

Edie


End file.
